


Kiss in the snow

by foxybadger42



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:13:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxybadger42/pseuds/foxybadger42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the disastrous Christmas party, Greg gives Molly a lift home.</p>
<p>Prompt: I want the K</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss in the snow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Story is mine. G. Lestrades belong to Sir Conan Doyle. BBC Sherlock and Holly Hooper to the BBC. No profit made. Just for fun

Poor thing, he thought to himself as he watched her walk up the stairs to her flat. The night had been disastrous for the both of them and they had the same person to blame for it. It was strange how one person could always ruin the mood just by being himself.

Somewhere, he didn’t want to blame Sherlock for the way he was, but as he looked at Molly huddled in her fur-coat, wearing that amazing dress underneath and her mascara smudged and hair slightly undone, snowflakes clinging to the strands; He couldn’t help but feel a deep loathing for the other man.

Christ, Sherlock. Don’t be so blind!

Why the hell would anyone deny a girl like Molly?

‘Oh!’ Molly suddenly squeaked and swayed, slipping on a patch of ice on the steps. She seemed to lose her balance, but Greg is already jumping up those few steps to grab her arm rather tightly, steadying her. Molly’s hand planted itself on his shoulder for more stability.

‘Oh – oh, thanks, Greg,’ she stammered as she regained her balance. ‘My landlord said he would grit the stairs – clearly he didn’t.’

‘Give him a bollocking from me, then,’ he said as he smiled up at her. ‘You could have broken your neck.’

‘Luckily, you were there,’ she smiled thankfully at him. ‘Like – like always,’ she added in a rather dreamy voice.

He wasn’t sure what she meant with that. It wasn’t as if he usually caught her when she was about to fall down a flight of stairs. The confusion was probably readable and she bit her lips and shook her head.

‘Nevermind, I’ll – I’ll go inside now,’ she said. ‘It’s —,’ she looked up at the dark sky above them. ‘It’s starting to snow even more.’

Greg looked up. It had been snowing all evening, and his shoulders and head were covered with patches of snow. It certainly did seem it was starting to snow harder.

‘Yeah, I’ll – I’ll be off then,’ he said as he pointed with his thumb at the car that stood behind him. He stepped down from the stairs, the hand that had been holding her sliding down the soft, furry sleeve of her arm until he felt something warm; her hand.

She seemed as confused as he was as he held her hand. But the warmth of her hand, the coldness of the December air nipping at his skin, was a welcoming feeling right now.

‘Yeah, your – your wife will be waiting for you,’ she stammered but didn’t pull her hand lose or anything. It seemed that the both of them had decided holding hands was actually quite nice.

His wife. Christ. Would she be waiting for him? She would, but – but why really? She was cheating on him. Again.

So why the hell should he even want to go home right now? To a woman who didn’t love him? Or at least not enough to stay monogamous just for him and their daughter?

Sod it.

There was someone else far more in need for his attention and love.

He stepped up the stairs again, still one step below her and placed his hand in her neck. Even with her standing higher, he was taller than her.

The perfect height for a kiss.

She seemed to freeze from his unannounced gesture, her hand going limp in his own. But it only lasted for a second until she squeezed his hand, her other hand coming to rest on the lapel of his coat.

But she was the first to break the kiss, looking at him with large, shocked eyes. Her cheeks flushed. He swallowed. He’d clearly made a mistake.

‘You – you should go home, Greg,’ she reminded him.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t want too.’ Why the hell should he want to? What did he have at home? A warm bed with a stone cold person next to him with her back turned to his side all night.

There was just his daughter there. Nothing else.

And Molly seemed to understand, giving a short nod to let him know that she did.

‘Then you should come in,’ she offered. ‘It’s getting cold – and we’re close to getting snowed-in,’ she added as she looked up at the dark skies again.

Greg nodded sheepishly, slowly letting go of her neck. Her hand moved over the top of his hair, brushing off the dusting of snow before she stepped back, pulling him up and leading him to the front door.

He did not go to Dorset the next day.


End file.
